


Company

by cyphernaut



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2014-06-22
Packaged: 2018-02-05 18:05:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1827376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyphernaut/pseuds/cyphernaut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mini-response to the following prompt:</p><p>Sherlock is asexual, but craves physical intimacy (cuddles, having his hair stroked/brushed, kisses on the forehead,...). The problem is no one seems to understand him. They either don't touch him or they want to go further than Sherlock is willing to go.</p><p>The only one that does get it is Mycroft. So when it all gets to be too much, Mycroft is the one he goes to. They just spend a day in each others company and Mycroft makes sure Sherlock gets lots of affection.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Company

"I'm still angry."

Mycroft looked up from his paper to see Sherlock framed in the doorway, his body tight with the tension between his resentment and desperate need. He must have been desperate, indeed, to seek Mycroft out at the Diogenes Club.

Setting his paper to the side, Mycroft raised his eyebrows at his little brother. "I would imagine so."

"You have no right to spy on me."

Mycroft refrained from reeling off the myriad laws and regulations that gave him the express right to spy on Sherlock, as well as most others within the jurisdiction. Instead, he motioned his brother over. "Come here."

Sherlock obeyed as mutinously as possible, according Mycroft an unconvincing glare as he stomped his way over. Mycroft pulled him down and settled him into the small gap between Mycroft's lap and the arm of the chair. It had been easier when they had been smaller. Sherlock's head still fit perfectly in the crook of Mycroft's neck, though, and Mycroft stroked it softly, gentling Sherlock into the embrace.

"I don't forgive you," Sherlock pronounced, wrapping his arms around Mycroft's chest.

"Hmm." Mycroft kissed Sherlock's mop of curls, and he felt his brother relax further into him, the anger slowly bleeding away. This was about more than the CCTV camera, Mycroft knew. Sherlock had been ejected from a crime scene, his brilliance an insufficient match for the chaos he'd incited.

"You need to clear my record again."

"Do I?"

“Yes. London is full of idiots.”

Mycroft smiled and squeezed his brother tighter. It looked to be a long night.


End file.
